X MARKS THE HEART: Parts I & II
by Denigoddess2001
Summary: X-Men/ Gargoyles Crossover. A young Mutant's past comes back to haunt her. Her beloved Gargoyle, Demetrius, fails to understand the sorrow. Through their link, Demetrius learns how Gambit's love may still have a claim on her heart and soul. (More to soon
1. Default Chapter

Denigoddess2001@aol.com  
9/26/01 11:39:31 PM  
Wren And Demetrius: X Marks The Heart  
Love's Gambit 1.0  
X-MEN/ GARGOYLE CROSSOVER  
  
DISCLAIMER: X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME. THEY BELONG TO MARVEL COMICS. GARGOYLES DON'T BELONG TO ME (DAMN!), THEY BELONG TO DISNEY. ALL ORIGINAL CHARACTERS BELONG TO DENIGODDESS2001.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Portions of this story are directly tied to a story line from X-Men in the mid-nineties. I don't remember the exact issue number. It takes places shortly after Bastion was in Federal custody. What's important is that some of the dialogue between Rogue and Remy/ Gambit comes directly from the Comic book that inspired this fanfic. It's somewhere in my collection and I don't remember the number. But, I just wanted to pass that note on to my readers.   
"TO DREAM ANYTHING THAT YOU WANT TO DREAM, THAT IS THE BEAUTY OF THE HUMAN MIND. TO DO ANYTHING THAT YOU WANT TO DO, THAT IS THE STRENGTH OF THE HUMAN WILL. TO TRUST YOURSELF, TO TEST YOUR LIMITS, THAT IS THE COURAGE TO SUCCEED."  
BERNARD EDMONDS  
  
  
  
An early October gale spun the fallen autumn leaves into a swirling eddy in the front yard of Wren Summer-Nightkind's "Summerlands" estate. She watched leaves dance in their minuet as they scattered across the yard. She sat silently on the front veranda and swayed gently in the porch swing. She said nothing as she sipped her hot herbal tea and watched the sun set. She was glad to be reticent with her hopes and alone in her dreams.  
  
[I want to simply be head of research and development at the Linoma office. I want to repaint the east guest room. I need to call the plumber about the leaking pipes in the upstairs bathroom. I want to just spend a weekend with Demetrius without mad mages, galactic goddesses and strange things that go bump in the night. I just want a normal life. No more dimension-hopping or chronological displacement. No more deities deciding that I'm their pinch hitter. No more jealous Gargoyles going after my mate. I just want a simple life.]  
  
Wren vowed to enjoy life at Summerlands and to enjoy work as the new head of Research and Development at the Linoma Bluffs corporate office. Xanatos and Owen had seen fit to reinstate her to her old job with the same pay and benefits in her hometown of Linoma. How she missed her days when she attended University and had an uncomplicated existence.   
  
She thought of the past several days and shook her head in utter disbelief. Wren and Demetrius had precious little time for any life. They had been bounced from realm to realm all in the name of Skylaris. Now, for the first time in many weeks they found respite on the sweet soil of home. She wanted to begin her new position and Demetrius soon started his new job as a Professorial assistant at Star City University.  
  
"Now, it's time for real life." She dared voice her private dreams aloud. She sighed her tension away in a combination of contentment and relief.  
  
She and Demetrius finally left Caledon Isle at the end of September. They spent two weeks recuperating from their last extra-dimensional expedition to Ainran. Wren found relaxation in doing what she did best; work. She returned to her old office and boxed up her supplies and belongings. She spent the week helping Darius Maza, Goliath's son by Elisa, learning the DeMahri alphabet. She spent a few hours nightly with Gargoyles instructing them on human etiquette. She spent more than one evening at the feet of the clan elders, Hudson and Veda, learning more about the Gargoyle Way.  
  
She thanked the Powers-That-Be for the place she and Demetrius called home. When she arrived, she withdrew the Annulus from her hip and placed it in a box crafted of the finest Oak and inlaid with fine blue velvet. There she placed the ancient relic of Oberon, The Annulus of Avalon, for safekeeping. She locked the box and placed it under her bed. [I can't get zapped to some strange dimension if I'm not tempted to use the Annulus.]  
  
Wren pulled her sweater more tightly about her and walked indoors. There she saw Demetrius in all his masculine glory. Silver-rimmed spectacles framed his lavender eyes. He relaxed in a recliner that he had claimed for himself. With silvery plum wings cloaked about him and tail flopped over the right arm of the recliner, he seemed perfectly at home. She knelt beside him and rested her cheek against his sleek combat tail.  
  
"Greetings, Milady Songbird." He welcomed her. She looked at the white goatee that he had grown in the past few weeks. It added a delightedly sinister air to his being.  
  
"Greetings, Milord." She planted a quick peck on his cheek. She cocked her head much in the manner a Dame did when questioning something. "What are you reading, Demetrius."  
  
He held up a hardcover book that read on the cover, The Brotherhood of Man and Mutants. By Professor Charles Francis Xavier. "He speaks of a world where all humanity dwells in harmony with their Sapien Superior brethren. He says that it begins with understanding of the Mutant condition. Then, through education, we demystify the superstition and fear regarding Homo Sapien Superior."  
  
"Yeah, well, it's a nice dream." Wren snorted. "But, it doesn't work well in this world."  
  
"He spoke of President Kelly's Mutant Registration Act of 1995.'" Demetrius slammed the book shut. "He spoke of the camps, the mysterious disappearance of thousands of individuals. He wrote about the atrocities committed against your kind: the experiments, the executions-"  
  
"I get the idea!" She held up her hand to silence him. She shuttered as she remembered the flawless horror of the camps. She remembered the inhibitor collar that the Commandant of the camp forced her to wear and how it chafed her neck. She remembered the smart chip inserted under her skin that detailed her mutant abilities and entire life history. She remembered the invisible barcode that she still bore laser-tattooed upon her forehead.  
  
"The camps were liberated by a renegade groups called the X-Men and the carnage against Mutants made known to the Nation. Mutant Amnesty was granted by President Oprah Winfrey in 1998." He leaned forward and caught the scent of horror and fear permeating from Wren's trembling form. "Milady! What ails ye?"  
  
"N-nothing." She heard that inescapable waver in her voice. She cursed the seven heavens for causing that particular tic to manifest whenever she attempted falsehood. [The Commandant and he re-education techniques were very thorough.] "I'm just cold."  
  
She pulled the sweater tighter around her for better effect. He raised a brow ridge in silent question of her acting ability. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much."  
  
He brought a talon to her small horns that crowned her brow as mark of her further altered DNA. Thanks to Puck of an alternate universe, Wren and Demetrius were now the only two of their kind in existence; she was half-gargoyle. He was half-human, thus both were an amalgam that made them what Skylaris called the Nightkind.  
  
From her horned brow he brushed back the signature white streak that adorned her russet tresses. The slightly pronounced horns weren't visible if hair fell around her face. He noticed beads of sweat rolling from her brow. "Wren, what ails you? Why are you trembling as though you have seen a wraith?"  
  
"I guess that the remembering of those days is something I don't care to relive." She rose to her feet and pushed her hands deeply into her pockets. She turned toward the kitchen. "I'm going to make another cup of herbal tea. Would you care for a cup?"  
  
"Nay." He spoke softly. He was to his feet in seconds. The empathic affinity that flowed between them raged like a strident tempest. She turned away and attempted a rare thing; she blocked the path of their mating bond. His talons dug into the tender flesh of her forearms. "Nay, Love. Do not sever our link. Where you go, I go."  
  
She could resist him nothing. He brought his lips comfortingly to her brow and held her close to his strong torso. Her head fell forward to his chest. He felt the warm tears seemingly sear his suede ebony skin. "Oh, Demetrius! It was horrible. You don't want to carry those memories inside you. Trust me on this one."  
  
"Shhh...Love. Let it flow from you." His natural response brought his arms and wings about her in the shroud of his loving embrace. His tail wound around her waist. He watched the past come to life in their minds' eyes. Their souls were linked and their thoughts forged one memory. "I shall always be with you."  
  
*********************  
  
INTO THE PAST....1995  
Demetrius watched passively as a young girl slept peacefully in her bed. Chestnut strands splayed on the whiteness of her pillow. He guessed her to be about eighteen. She cuddled her pillow next to her. That same stray lock fellow over her brow. He saw the figurines on hand-carved oak shelves that adorned her room. The warm feelings from the figurines revealed her grandfather, Robin Goodfellow, had given them to her. He had also carved the shelves for her. She hadn't seen him since she was a child.   
  
The sentimental reminiscences were abruptly when Demetrius heard the crashing of wood as her bedroom door was kicked open. Several forms armed with firearms entered her room and surrounded her bed. She woke up startled and stunned. In the commotion he heard safeties release and someone yelled, "Freeze! Department of Mutant Affairs."  
  
She screamed and her hands glowed. Figurines of cats trembled on handcrafted oak shelves. Safeties jammed and people tripped. Two figures clad in body-armor held her down on the bed. The young Wren struggled as a third figure shrouded in silhouette approached her with a strange circlet in hands. Wren fought and kicked but the strength of her assailants overpowered her. The figure leaned forward and she heard a 'click.'  
  
The verdant glow of her hands stopped. The figurines crashed to the floor and the shelves cracked. The swat team for the Department of Mutant Affairs carried the eighteen-year-old college student from her brother Hawke's home and loaded her into a van. Wren tried to activate her probability manipulation and found that nothing happened. A figure held a syringe and tapped the side to clear it of air bubbles. "Pleasant Dreams, Sleeping Mutie."  
  
Demetrius watched in silent horror as the vision blurred and focused again within something that looked akin to a prison. High concrete walls surrounded the courtyard where Wren and twenty other mutants stood. He heard the words of the Commandant as he paced slowly in front of the frightened group. He lectured how that if they followed the rules that they would stay alive.  
  
Each was taken, stripped and searched. Some of the guards committed unspeakable acts on the mutants: male and female. Wren considered herself fortunate that she had been at the end of that line. Each had been given a series of inoculations against various diseases. Some were injected with viruses that were known to be fatal. One of the lieutenants ran a scanning device past her. He gave her a stern look and a curt nod. "Your brother told me to look for you. Keep your mouth shut and you'll get out of this alive. Do you understand?"  
  
She said nothing but nodded quickly in compliance to his question. His next words she knew saved her life. "She ain't worth the piss in my bladder. She's a delta class mutant. Process her and put her in the barracks for work detail."  
  
She was mysteriously taken from the line and spared the horror of the inoculations. Processing meant cutting her hair so that it stood only an inch off her scalp. Processing included issuement of bright yellow prison wear. On the back of the loud jumpsuit was a brilliant orange "M." That meant Mutant. On the front, the same "M" was emblazoned on her lapel followed by a small "D" attached at the lower right leg of the letter that designated her power rating.   
  
Processing included three guards holding her down while a laser scalpel scorched a holographic barcode onto her forehead. They seemed amused as young Wren Summers screamed as the laser scalpel branded the barcode, her prisoner number and the invisible holograph into her skin. Processing consisted of them making an incision in her skin without anesthesia and slipping in that accursed smart chip in her forearm. Afterwards, she was assigned a bunk and work detail.  
  
Traumatized and disturbed by the events of the past twenty-four hours, Wren spent her first evening in her bunk curled in a fetal position and unaware of the world about her. The next day, a female matron brought Wren back to reality with several strong backhands to her cheeks. Wren meekly did as she was told. She vowed to make it alive out of the camps.  
  
Work detail included serving food in the cafeteria to Mutant Affairs Officers, camp guards and other prisoners. Over the course of time, her friends and bunkmates disappeared and were replaced by fresh faces. One month passed then two. Two became four and four turned into eight. At the end, she wondered why the guards hadn't taken her away for 'medical examination' or abused worse.   
  
One year after surviving in the camps relatively untapped, she spotted a familiar face in the line of officers waiting their turn to receive their food. He was a tall man in his late twenties with a straw jaw and cleft chin. Wide blue eyes were framed by arched brows and framed by short russet hair cut in standard military style. She saw the 1st lieutenant's bars on the lapels of his jacket. His eyes found hers and they widened a fraction and narrowed perceptively.  
  
"You!" He barked. "Prisoner! What is your barcode number?"  
  
She knew that he meant her. She immediately forced her eyes look forward to the opposite wall. "Sir, my barcode number is DWES68621."  
  
Wren felt her skin crawl as he stepped forward to scrutinize her more thoroughly. "What is your given name, DWES68621?"  
  
"Sir: Summers, Wren Elizabeth."  
  
"Mutant class?" He probed.  
  
"Sir: Delta." She focused her eyes on the concrete wall across the cafeteria. It was considered a venial offense to stare an officer directly in the eye.   
  
She heard him mumble something to the Sergeant beside him. The sergeant went to the end of the counter and came back behind where she stood. The other mutants parted like the Red Sea as he strode toward her. Her serving spoon cluttered in mashed potatoes clattered on the hospital green tile floor.  
  
"Summers,come with me." The Sergeant roughly grabbed her arm. He hissed inside her ear. "It seems Lieutenant Summers likes what he sees."  
  
She said nothing as he escorted her from the cafeteria much to amazement and sorrow of the other prisoners. Demetrius heard mutters of 'I knew her lucky streak would break, poor girl. Hope they make it quick for her."  
  
"Where are you taking me?" She demanded.  
  
"Keep your mouth shut and just walk. I'm trying to keep you alive." The Sergeant growled. He led her to an office inside one of the buildings forbidden to the prisoner. He took her down a series of corridors until he escorted her inside a room. "Sit, shut up and wait."  
  
She sat in the cold chair for almost an hour when she heard the door finally open. Inside stepped a handsome army lieutenant that she knew well. The last time she had seen him was the night she had been taken from his house.  
  
"Hawke!"She cried out. She cared little for life that moment as she ran to his open arms. "Please! Get me out of here!"   
  
"Wren." He stepped forward and embraced her. "We don't have much time to talk. My superior thinks I'm having a little fun with you. I didn't turn you in, Dad did."  
  
"Gee, how'd you guess what I was going to ask first." She breathed a sigh of relief and rested her head on her brother's lapel. "I figured as such. I didn't know that my father was such a treacherous son-of-a-bitch. Did he ever give you a reason?"  
  
"He did it because he thought they would take care of you. In his twisted mind he thinks the camps are a good thing. When he found out that you were part of the Pro-Mutant movement, he went ballistic. He didn't want the good Summers named tainted by what he called 'gene-trash."  
  
"Can you get me out of here?" She bordered on hysteria. "Please, I'll do anything."  
  
"I've known you were here for awhile." He admitted. He pulled away and his hands rested on her shoulders. "I was able to get you assigned to kitchen detail. I don't have enough influence to get you set free. I'm trying to get the paperwork sent through Command to have you transferred to a medium security facility. I'm trying to talk a Major into taking you as a maid."  
  
"Great." She muttered.   
  
"Be grateful for what I've been able to do, Wren." His ominous tone caused her to shiver. "Most like you are either camp whores or cadavers."  
  
"I'm thankful." She bit her tongue as she said the words. "What happens now?"  
  
"Go back to your detail and say nothing. Act as you have been and I'll try to get you out of here before winter."  
  
The sergeant escorted her back to her post and she said nothing of the meeting with her brother. She heard later that month that he had been promoted to Captain. Suddenly, she found herself on office detail in Processing. She never saw her brother and she was never transferred, but she wasn't harmed either.   
  
She wasn't harmed until one day one of the prison guards grabbed her breast on the serving line. Wren felt a rare burst of tremor and dumped green beans over his head. For her offense, she had been taken to an interrogation room and taught that insubordination to her betters carried a high price. She learned that the same female matron had seen to her punishment. When the beating had finished, Wren had been placed in isolation. Several days of starvation and depravation left Wren little more than a mindless vegetable.  
  
Days following her degradation and beatings, she heard explosions outside her incarceration unit. A young man dressed in metallic body armor entered her cell. He looked like the heroic cowboy of the old West dressed in his flowing leather duster. His eyes gleamed like burning embers. He had the smile of a blackguard and the looks of the devil. Yet, his voice carried with it a gentleness that reached within her catatonic state.  
  
"Don' you worry now, Belle. You gonna be okay. Da Professor will take care o' you." The Cajun drawl barely registered inside the young woman's mind. He lifted the limp frail body of the young woman into his arms and carried her from the cell.  
  
"I just want to die..." She murmured as the darkness claimed her.  
  
*************  
  
Demetrius' lavender eyes blazed with fury and rage as he saw the atrocities committed against Wren's people simply because of their genetic status. Many more visions passed before his eyes; the mass executions, the daily cullings of the weakest, the horrid experiments performed on the most powerful mutants. He saw the headstones lined with names he had heard mentioned in passing: Jubilee, Havok, Polaris, Wildchild, and Marrow. Some had been members of various groups; some had been X-Men that had died for the cause.  
  
Now he understood Wren's disdain for human society. He comprehended why she remained alone in the world. He recognized that why she never spoke of her past and her family. She had kept so much hidden that he never knew. It filled in the missing portions that left Wren something of a conundrum. A Sire's roar satiated with fury, anguish, and hopelessness shattered the lights in the fixture above them.  
  
Demetrius watched this pass before him in a series of visions. There was one miniscule point of light in the insanity and darkness that clouded her life during that time. It came in the form of a lingering affection for the mysterious Cajun that rescued her. She called him the Thief of Hearts. He brought a mysterious sensuality to the usually demure Wren. The Thief's voice was a tenor that reminded her of melted butterscotch and caramel. His long tapered fingers touched her and sent her heart into an affection Demetrius thought reserved only for him.  
  
The months of therapy with Professor Xavier and compassion of Jean Grey-Summers brought Wren from her self-imposed coma. The daily sessions of poker and interaction with the one called Remy drew Wren back from the precipice of lunacy. When the night terrors claimed her mind, he held her. When the spells of flashbacks overwhelmed her, his ability of emotional manipulation calmed her. He kept her from jumping on one occasion. Another time, he found her in the tub after she had used his straight razor on her wrists.   
  
He took her to Atlantic City to forget her troubles. The gambling became her mainstay for rebuilding her life. It became the keystone for healing. He became the lifeline that mended her mistrust in the world and restored her faith in trust.  
  
Demetrius recognized the feelings as they turned to love. He recognized her quiet affection as attraction for the mysterious thief that had stolen her hart. The warmth she felt for the Cajun transformed into a long, slow burn.   
  
*************  
  
OCTOBER 2005  
  
"Wren...." A hand shook her shoulder. "Wren."  
  
Her head snapped up and she saw Demetrius staring down at her. Crystalline tears flowed freely. His talons entwined in her hair as he tried in vain to hold back a sob. "My Love, I never knew."  
  
"I guess we have more in common than you thought." She said darkly. "Humans killed your people and mine."  
  
"You can not surely jest about the indescribable darkness that I witnessed through your eyes. How can you simply let it lie?"  
  
"I have to or it will kill me." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I wanted to die. God knows how many times I tried to end my life. Luck never was with me. Remy always seemed to know what I was going to do before I did."  
  
"Who is this Remy?" Demetrius asked menacingly. "This dark thief of the night that claimed your heart so thoroughly?"  
  
"You felt that?" She asked in a small voice.  
  
"Aye, Milady. The fires that burn for him lie deep within you, but strongly still they blaze." The ebon warrior looked at his ladylove with soulful eyes. "Is this why your heart is not given without reservation? Is this why you evade the talk of marriage when I bring the matter to you?"  
  
"Demetrius, I am your mate." Her eyes blazed with the depths of her pain. "Before clan and Skylaris, I made my vows to you. We went through a mating chase. We are one. I never meant for you to know that I ...had this kind of life."  
  
"Yet, your love for him fortified your resolve for survival. This man named Remy cared so that you would not meet death too soon. I owe this Mutant many thanks." Demetrius brought her hands to lips and brushed them with kisses. He brought his brow to hers. She saw his tears fall and felt his vulnerability flow through her as a waterfall into a might river. She tenderly wiped away the warrior's tears.  
  
"Please, Demetrius. Don't cry for me. Everything is fine. I'm here with you now. It is in the past and it can't be changed. But, we have the future and my heart is with you." She pleaded. "All I want is you."  
  
"Do you think of him?"  
  
"Sometimes."  
  
"Did he love you?"  
  
"It was complicated." She finally answered after several seconds of silence. "That question isn't easily answered."  
  
"Was he why you left the X-Men after only a year?"  
  
"I attended the Xavier Institute for one year. I was an X-Man for one year. I had continuous contact with them from 1997 to 2002. Look!" She threw her hands in the air and broke free of her mate's embrace. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. It's in the past. Leave it there."  
  
"Do you still love him, Wren?"  
  
The question caused her to stop in her tracks. She froze in horror as the words fell upon her ears. Her tail twitched as the seconds ticked away. She looked over her shoulder at the warrior standing behind her stoically with wings cloaked about him. "I love you, Demetrius."  
  
"Do you love him also, Milady?"  
  
"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies." She warned him.  
  
"Wren, I have no secrets from you." He persisted. He came behind her and embraced her. "I doubt not your love for me. Yet, how can we truly be one if your love for him still burns?"  
  
"I never said that I still loved him!" She pulled herself free from Demetrius' embrace and stormed from the room into the kitchen.  
  
[Liar. You know you love him in a way Demetrius could never understand.] Her conscience chided her. She remembered the missions and the life-threatening conditions that bonded the duo into a cohesive unit. His schism with Rogue and her need for healing brought them together in a way closer than family and more intimate than lovers. She made every attempt in the past three years to forget crimson eyes burning their way into her soul. Wren Summers begged the Powers-That-Be to cause her mind forgetfulness about Remy's sweet, sensitive touch or his scorching kisses.  
  
Wren's clenched fist found it's way through the perfect white wall near the refrigerator. With her newfound Gargoyle-like abilities, she forgot that meant increased strength as well as agility. She slid down the wall and huddled in the corner sobbing. The final solution for her had been to leave. Now, that solution needed resolution. She knew that there was none to be found.  
  
"Love?" A quiet voice entered her private torture.  
  
She silently looked up at her lover kneeling before her. "I'm sorry, Demetrius. I didn't know that it would come to this."  
  
"Let me see it all, Milady." He urged. "I'll not love you less. Where you go, I go. Where you lead, I follow. What you are, so shall I become. I know your pain as mine. Let me help carry this burden that lies heavy on your heart. Perhaps the peace and answers you seek will come of this."  
  
"You won't like it Demetrius." She smiled through her tears. "I don't want to break your heart."  
  
"Oh, Love." He brushed the single white streak that fell errantly across her horned brow. "I have always been yours."  
  
"All right..." Wren opened that part of herself that she had kept locked away for almost a decade. She let open the darkest, deepest depths of her souls to the one male who might see them. The bond intensified with each emotion pulsating through it. Demetrius and Wren were swept away in a maelstrom of passion, deceit, love, betrayal, anguish, sorrow, ecstasy, and dreams.  
  
***************  
  
XAVIER INSTITUTE 1997  
WREN SUMMER'S DORM ROOM.  
  
  
Thief Of Hearts... She stared at the reflection posed so perfectly in the mirror before her. How she missed his tapered fingers gently stroking her cheek. She craved his fervent kisses. His smooth, silky greeting of "G'Mornin', Belle" brightened the dawn of each new day. She felt Remy's empathic response touch her consciousness and send primal waves throughout her core. He was her lifeline No method of science explicated the symbiotic bond that they shared.   
  
He was a suave libertine that enchanted the ladies. His empathic gifts soothed her fragile nature. Her aptness at forging empathic melds strengthened her sanity; giving Wren a mental anchor with endless healing. They needed each other. They were one heart and one mind. Remy and Wren became one entity.  
  
Remy was the father that replaced the conspirator that betrayed her. He was the brother that comforted her. He was the one that cherished her when no one wanted her. He was the man that brought love from her. He was all that she needed. He became her reason for living and her risk worth taking.  
  
She began the healing process under Jean Grey-Summer's watchful telepathic administrations. The Commandant was in Federal custody. All seemed right to the world until one fateful mission ripped everything asunder. Now, Gambit's horrible secret had, at last, made its way to the foyer. Wren never anticipated that his abhorrent indiscretions would be revealed in such a harsh fashion.   
  
Remy infiltrated the X-Men upon Sinister's orders and intended to betray them to his diabolical master.  
  
Wren felt Remy's pain halfway around the world. As she stared at her reflection in the silver antique mirror, she felt that familiar rapport overtake her mind. She felt the gentle, warm vibrations at the base of her skull. She heard his soul cry tears of desolation and despair. She felt the cold arctic winds freeze his tears against his cheeks. She felt the chill of arctic frost sting her skin. She wasn't the empathy; he was. She silently prayed to whatever deity that heard her to simply make the bond vanish. His memories became hers and his feelings dwelled within her as thought she felt them firsthand.  
  
The final words exchanged between Remy and Rogue cause nausea to churn in Wren's sensitive stomach. The sounds of the harsh exchange were strident torture as they resounded inside of her mind. She clasped her hand over her mouth as her lunch demanded freedom from her stomach. Wren rushed to the bathroom, but still the words invaded her mind in an onslaught of fury and sorrow.  
  
"...Rogue, I don't care if you leave me here, Chere', but you have to understand-"  
  
"You think ah can understand you? " Wren felt the raw emotions of confusion, rage, and betrayal coursing through her best friend. "You think wrong, Mistuh!!"  
  
The resolution and finality of the situation had a calming effect upon Remy. "Fine. Then, I've earned your hatred. But, at least get me somewhere that'll give me a chance ta get back home."  
  
"HOME!?!?" Rogue's feeling of indignation was so intense that Wren felt vertigo, nausea, and dizziness slam her as a psionic punch. "You ain't got no home, Sugah, not with me...and not with the X-Men. Fend for yourself. You seem to have done a good job of that in the past...."   
  
"You're honest with the people you love, Gambit. Otherwise," Wren psionically saw the resolution in Rogue as she turned her back one last time upon her Cajun sweetheart. "It's a gamble."  
  
The glaring white of the arctic snows faded from Wren's troubled mind as she wretched into the toilet. While she laid on the cool tile floor, a somewhat lucidity entered her thoughts in lieu of the empathic assault just experience. Left in its place was the pragmatic observation that Gambit was stranded in sub-zero temperatures. He would freeze to death. Wren refused to leave Remy to the mercilessness of Mother Nature. Without another word, she went to her closet and retrieved her blue and gold uniform that she wore with pride.  
  
"Never leave home without it." She thought wryly as she donned the uniform. She washed her face and combed her hair so that it was out of her face. Remy had saved her from the bowels of Hell. She could do no less for him. Now, they had come full circle.  
  
[Whom can I trust?] She thought wildly. [I have no way to get there under my power. He's freezing to death and I can't reach him.]  
  
There was one person that came to mind that might be barmy enough to assist her. Armand DeVoe, contemporary of Xavier and Child of Oberon. Her was currently at the mansion to see to matters while Professor Xavier was gone. She would owe him an immeasurable debt, but it was worth it if they saved Remy's life. He also had the access codes to the air hanger in the sub-levels beneath the mansion.  
  
"Armand." She said his name crisply as she pressed her "X" logo on her comm badge. "Are you here?"  
  
"Oh, yes!" He replied merrily. "Lass, what are ye' needin'?"  
  
"I need your help."  
  
"How can I help ye?"  
  
"I don't need Armand DeVoe." She said softly. "I need you as Armand, child of Oberon."  
  
"Oh, wonderful." The voice came crisp and clear across the commlink. "I always did like a challenge. What do you have in mind?"  
  
Wren explained the situation at hand regarding Remy being stranded in the Arctic. "My, my, my...you do have a tall order for me to fill. Your grandfather would simply have a tizzy if I didn't assist you in this. And I need the amusement."  
  
"Amusement to you!" She blasted. "How can you think it's quaint or droll that someone is left abandoned and dying?"  
  
Silence met her question. "Lass, I nae find it entertaining to see cruelty enacted upon any; be they mortal or fae. What would you have me do?  
  
She forced herself to take several deep breaths and to find serenity. "Armand, bring the plane around, pronto! We have a priority one rescue mission."  
  
"Roger that." Came the reply.  
  
BFFFTT!! In front of her in the bathroom instantly stood a figure surrounded in fluttering rose petals and morning mists. He clicked his tongue as he spotted her pale complexion. "Those empathic links with Remy are going to do you in, Lass. Ye nae not look well."  
  
"He's dying, Armand." She replied harshly. "He linked us with that damned empathic ability of his. I promise you this; I'll never let it happen again! But, that's not the point. He needs our help and everyone on this team has turned his back on him."  
  
"Why not you?" He asked. She watched the raven-haired elf sit lotus-style while levitating in midair. His long straight tresses floated as if he were underwater. "He's supposedly a traitor to every member of the X-Men."  
  
"He saved my life." She reminded him. "He kept me together when I wanted to chuck everything and say, 'Screw it.' He wouldn't allow me the easy way out by dying. He challenged me to live. And... I love him, Armand. Please...I'm begging. Help me save him."  
  
"Wren, m'girl, you present a winning argument. Ye know that there's a price to be exacted for invoking a child of Oberon." He said gravely. "I cannae be breakin' all the rules."  
  
"I'll pay whatever price you ask." She reassured him. "Just help me save him, please."  
  
"Do ye wish to know the price?" He asked.  
  
"Later! We're wasting time." She snapped.  
  
"Then we won't be needin' the plane." The taciturn child of Oberon danced about her. "We simply need to find our way to him....hmm?"   
  
"In the land of ice and snow  
We search for one intimately known  
By this shy mutant known as Wren  
Who longs to see her thief again  
  
So mote it be the price be paid  
And so the magick be relayed  
To the land of ice and so we ascend  
And they our way towards home doth we wend."  
  
The soft pastels of her room unexpectedly became a cold, frigid wind of ice and chill. The chill settled on the outside of her uniform. Though it protected her from hazardous conditions, the cold seep its way into her aching soul. The blizzard blinded her sight. The elf seemed unphased by the gusts of wind blowing past him. She wandered forward for a few yards and saw six figures leaving him and heading towards their aircraft. Wren recognized them to be Rogue, Archangel, Psylocke, Beast, Maggot and the human named Trish Welby.  
  
"Rogue, I hope you burn in Hell, you treacherous bitch." She muttered through chattering teeth. Wren decided not to notify her fellow teammates of her proximity or of her intentions of rescuing Remy LeBeau from the clutches of the Arctic cold.  
  
"I see him." Armand affirmed. "He doesn't look good, Lass."  
  
"Oh, no!" Wren stared at the screen displaying the lifeless image of Remy lying in the snow. Wren rushed to the dying Cajun lying helpless and frozen in the snow. She kneeled and lifted him into her arms. "Remy...Remy....It's going to be all right. I promise."  
  
'Rogue....Ma chere....j'taim."  
  
The French declaration of love for Rogue ripped at her heartstrings. She quickly put her emotions aside looked at Armand. He nodded in understanding. He made a series of intricate hand gestures and recited the incantation  
  
"How I despise this frigid cold  
I really find it getting old  
To Hearth and haven let us return  
And of this thief's condition learn."  
  
Wren held Remy close to her chest as she found all three of them in the X-Men's infirmary. She knew they had roughly two hours before the team of traitors returned. She laid him on the table and covered him with a blanket.  
  
"Armand, please help him." Wren tucked the blanket in around the Cajun. "Where are we going to do now? We aren't exactly going to be welcome back at the school."  
  
"Ah, ye mutant so bereft of faith." Armand chided her gently. "You forget that I am a woman of many resources. We're heading to my Linoma headquarters."  
  
"I don't think I'm feeling so well." Wren swooned and crumpled in a pile at the elf's feet. He shook his head in dismay.  
  
"Big heart, pitiful constitution." He took the unconscious woman's hand in his and took hold of Remy's trembling body. In the flash of spark and light, they left the Xavier Institute behind them.  
  
***********  
  
Wren found herself tucked comfortably in a king-sized bed. She abruptly sat upright trying to figure out her surroundings. Soft cream walls and lavender curtains greeted her. The aches and chills of her brief time in the Arctic lingered in her body. She felt familiar warmth beside her. She turned to see a peaceful figure slumbering.  
  
Remy snuggled instinctively into her warmth. She let the joy run freely through her being as she silently thanked the Powers-That-Be for his safe return. She placed her palm against his forehead. [Warm to the touch is not a good thing.] She thought. [I hope that he awakens soon.]  
  
Remy had finally come clean about his past. She never thought that day would have been possible. She certainly never expected the backhanded response from her fellow X-men. The entire team had fallen apart since the incarceration of Professor Xavier by the Government during the Kelly Administration. Oh, how Wren wished that she possessed his wisdom.  
  
Armand had been absolutely right. His Linoma estate was the perfect place for her to hide and Remy to heal from his exposure to the elements. When he was ready and willing, they would talk. For now, it was enough for Wren to know that her friend was out of danger. What was she to tell her teammates? She knew that they would not understand her reasoning.  
  
The Professor's tenets stressed peaceful coexistence between Humans and Mutants. The tenets also emphasized the importance of loyalty and honor. Gambit had watched Wren's back many times. He had saved her life more than once. He was the one friend that did not care about her tragic past. To Wren he had always been just Remy. He was well worth all that she risked.  
  
She placed a chaste kiss to his warm brow. "Remy, don't worry. It doesn't matter to me the man you once were. It only matters whom you choose to be now. Just be well."  
  
His eyes began to flutter. Soon his crimson gaze stared into sweet and gentle hazel orbs.  
  
"Belle? Is dat you?" His words sounded ragged and hoarse to her ears.  
  
Relief flooded over Wren. "Well, I'm not the tooth fairy."  
  
"Oh, Belle. You should have left me there." He turned from her and stared at the wall. Remy closed his eyes to stem his tears and hid his shame.  
  
"Not on your life, Remy. You'd have given those penguins indigestion." She desperately attempted brevity to bring a smile to his face.  
  
"I be to spicy for dem, Belle."  
  
She grinned at his quick retort. A smile erased the lines of worry crossing her features.  
  
"The X-Men know about me....there are things you don't know....."  
  
"It doesn't matter to me." She gave him a knowing smile. "You forget, mon ami, I know your heart because of the link we share. That's all I need."  
  
"But, Wren, Chere''', you don't know 'bout what I done..."  
  
"I know it all, Remy, from your meetings with Sinister to your involvement with the Morlock Massacre." She took his tapered fingers and intertwined them with her own. "What you did is deplorable. I won't deny that. However, that was then and this is now. You're not the same man that made those decisions. It was wrong of the others to leave you there to die."  
  
"Can't say as I blame them, Wren. That's no less than what I deserve."  
  
"Oh, please. Spare me the pity party. It doesn't become you." She gently punched him in the arm.  
  
She heard the grim chuckle rumble from Gambit's throat. "You always be hot and spicy."  
  
"You make me sound like fried chicken, Remy. I truly believe that you are a better man that what you were. That was then and this is now. I like the man you are now."  
  
A roguish smile graced Remy's chiseled features. "You like what you see, Wren? I can show you more."  
  
"Remy LeBeau, shame on you. That's not what I meant and you know it." She was happy to see that he had not lost that racy sense of humor. That was a good sign. "However, I have faith in you, my friend."  
  
Solemnity squelched the flirtatious mood between them. "How can you after what I have done?"  
  
Wren's hazel eyes blazed with emerald flames of love and affection. "I can see inside the very depths of your soul. I have been there and I have seen the heart of a kind and compassionate man. You are not of the ilk of your former employer or his recruits. You are a man worthy of loyalty, honor, and trust."  
  
"Oh, Belle." A solitary teardrop traced a path along Remy's stubbled cheek. "I don't want anyone to forget 'bout what I've done. I just want to be forgiven."  
  
"Hush, Remy." Wren quickly placed to fingers to his sensuously full lips. "Let's not even go there. "All that I am worried about is caring for your current medical condition. You were exposed to the elements and it's had its consequences."  
  
"Our link don' lie, Wren. I can feel you chokin' back de revulsion. I can feel you denial oozin' from your pores." The hollow, empty eyes were that of a condemned man. "I couldn't ......Oh, gods....I c-couldn't take it if you hated me too. Please don't hate me."  
  
"Oh, Remy." She gathered his lithe masculine frame into her arms. She felt his rising fever through the sleeves of her uniform. "The last thing that I could ever do is hate you. I know it hurts."   
  
She leaned forward and placed a soft, gentle kiss on Remy's cheek. "It will hurt for some time. The pain will lessen with the passage of time. I've been there and I've done that. Right now, we have to get you strong and healthy again."  
  
"Don't leave me, Wren." Wren felt his granite body shutter repeated in her embrace. The wet warmth of tears fell on her shoulder. His sobs came in broken, ragged breaths. Her mind fought to distance her from his empathic sendings of sorrow and despair. "I'm so scared."  
  
It seemed an eternity as Wren rocked Remy slowly in her arms. She whispered soothing reassuring words in his ear. She whispered quiet words of acceptance and love to cocoon him in a quilt of security. She felt the stress and guilt drain him of his energy. It hurt her to see him this way, so vulnerable and alone. Finally, the shudders and sobs subsided into a heavy, labored breathing. The Cajun slowed pulled away from Wren and wiped his eyes of the last remaining tears. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair.   
  
"Wren." His smooth Cajun brogue carried a caress in its tone. "Thank-you."  
  
"No problem, Remy." She felt her fluttering heart skip a beat. "It will get better. You need your rest now. It won't do you any good to be up all night lamenting about your dire straits. Get some sleep and we'll talk tomorrow."  
  
She pulled the covers up to his neck and ginger tucked them in around his massive form. Her cool, wet lips branded Remy when she placed a chaste peck upon his forehead. "Good night, Remy."  
  
Zzzzzzz  
  
TO BE CONTINUED  



	2. The Way Of The Wild Heart

Denigoddess2001@aol.com  
9/27/01 3:11:35 PM  
X Marks The Heart  
The Ways Of The Wild Heart 2.0  
  
SUMMARY: FOR NEW READERS TO MY WORK THIS SUMMARY IS FOR YOU. THIS TAKES PLACE IN AN ALTERNATE GARGOYLES UNIVERSE IN 2005. WREN WAS A FORMER X-MEN THAT DIDN'T CUT THE MUSTARD AND SO SHE LEFT. SHE TOOK A JOB AS A RESEARCHER FOR XANATOS ENTERPRISES (READ MORE ABOUT THAT IN THE 'SAINTS IN THE NIGHT' STORY ARC.) SHE MET A GARGOYLE NAMED DEMETRIUS AND THEY FELL IN LOVE. SKIPPING AHEAD, NOW THE DUO HAS COME OFF A RECENT BOUT OF INTERDIMENSIONAL TRAVELS AND HAS A RELAXING TIME AT HOME. WREN HAS TO FACE HER PAST BEFORE THE X-MEN. DEMETRIUS WITH HIS EMPATIC ABILITIES WANTS TO HELP BRING HEALING AND CLOSURE TO THIS HORRIFIC PART OF HER LIFE. IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS EMAIL ME AT THE ADDRESS ABOVE.   
  
THIS STORY IS A FLASHBACK CONTINUED FROM LOVE'S GAMBIT 1.0. THESE ARE THE MEMORIES OF WREN SUMMERS AS DEMETRIUS THE GARGOYLE EXPERIENCES THEM THROUGH THEIR EMPATHIC LINK.  
  
  
DISCLAIMER: GARGOYLES DON'T BELONG TO ME. THEY BELONG TO DISNEY. X-MEN AREN'T MINE. THEY BELONG TO MARVEL. ALL ORIGINAL CHARACTERS BELONG TO DENIGODDESS2001. PLEASE DO NOT SUE.   
  
X Marks The Heart  
The Ways Of The Wild Heart 2.0  
Summerlands Estate  
Sometime in 1997   
  
  
  
The first rays of morning streamed though the large bay windows of Remy's bedroom. The gentle warmth of the dawning sun tenderly awoke him. The soft, warm feel of the fresh cotton sheets was a caress on his bronzed skin. Slowly, he sat up in the large four-poster bed. A delicious aroma tantalized his nostrils. He breathed in the smoky smell of honey-cured breakfast ham being prepared in the kitchen at the end of the east wing.  
  
'Mmm,' Was the opinion from Remy's grumbling midsection. "Wren do make a mean breakfast. Dat girl works miracles."  
  
He reminisced how he had made her breakfast on many occasions. She had always been in a mad dash to get to her classes at the Institute. There was always another test to take or another problem to solve. Her life was a constant struggle to overcome the atrocities experienced in her past. Remy always made sure she had a nutritious breakfast and a tasty sack lunch. He arose from the bed and donned the robe that Wren had lain out for him.   
  
[Dat girl's sure do t'ink of everything.]   
  
As he walked down the hall, he remembered their morning banters across the breakfast bar. It brought a warm, sentimental feeling to Remy that he had not felt in a very long time...  
  
"Good mornin', mon belle. You need a cup of Java, non?" A baritone timber addressed the young woman slaving over the overworked microwave   
  
"Sorry, no can do, Remy. But thanks!' She raced by him to retrieve her coat from the coat rack. He gently put a hand on her arm.  
  
"Belle, you can not do this to yourself. You have ta eat.' He noticed that he and Wren were the only two people in the kitchen. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered that Armand had aided in his rescue. Highly unusual, it was a rare gem of a moment with his favorite songbird.  
  
"Mmm...what is that I smell?" Wren did not pull away from his gentle hold. "Do you have an extra slice or two of French toast to spare for dis Cajun?' He facetiously batted his dark lashes. She raked her gaze along the lean, hard contours of his sculptured physique.  
  
"Always for you, Remy."  
  
"You won't be hungry with Remy around... not for food anyway.' He gave a sly wink.  
  
"Lech."  
  
"Ah, Belle!' He melodramatically grasped his heart. "You wound me with your biting tongue."  
  
"Oh, you think so, Monsieur? My tongue can do many things...." She saucily licked her lips bare inches away from his. "And I only bite where it doesn't show."  
  
He mentally shuddered in arousal. [Damn! She was good.] She was the only woman other than Rogue that could make him grow hard just by talking to him.  
  
"Now, make yourself useful and serve me some toast, dammit." He voice was menacing but her grin betrayed her true demeanor. In silence, he handed her a plate of fluffy golden French toast smothered in dark maple syrup. She quickly devoured the homemade sweet delicacy. He noticed a drop of syrup on her lips. Remy want to lick that tempting little drop. He wondered if she would taste sweeter.  
  
"Remy... Remy..." A distant voice called to him. "Earth to Remy. He inhaled a whiff of floral scent of lavender and roses.   
  
Their steamy flirtations had always been a source of amusement for both of them. It had developed first in jest then became more heated as he used his emotion control to aid in the healing of Wren's mind. This plain little girl somehow made her way under his skin. She had a way of making Remy LeBeau overheat, and sometimes, burn. Since she had rescued him the evening previous, he held no desire to think about the one woman to whom he had given his heart. It was too painful to think how Rogue had given it back to him in pieces. Wren provided a cheery release from his descent into emotional Hell.  
  
"Sorry, Belle. My mind just did a little wanderin'." He gave her an irresistible smile. "What is dat wonderful smell in the kitchen?"  
  
"Hash Browns, Canadian Bacon, and Strawberry pancakes are today's menu, ALA Wren."  
  
"No French toast?"  
  
"French toast?" She looked at Remy as if he were slightly insane. "Let's be real here, Gumbo. I am not a culinary master. If it can't be cooked in a microwave in less than five minutes, I don't touch it! Be happy that I actually did the pancakes from Bisquick. I never cook."  
  
"Merci, Belle." He gallantly bowed to his saucy hostess. "My hungry stomach humbly thanks you." They walked down the corridor the kitchen. Sitting at the table reading the paper was none other than Wren's faithful "manservant", Armand.  
  
"Ah, greetings and salutations to you both." The Elf cheerfully greeted them.  
  
Remy, after all the time he had known Wren, was still dumbfounded by this maddening Child of Oberon. She had encountered the "elf" when introduced to him as a child by her grandfather, Robin Goodfellow. On the mystical isle of Avalon, Armand had been a very talented alchemist, thaumaturgist, and adroit metaphysical pedagogue. Big words for a little individual, Remy chuckled. When it all came down to the basic, Armand had been Robin's lover for many years and in many guises.  
  
He was a diminutive being about 5'4". He had flowing ebony locks that flowed freely about him. He wore a colorful burgundy tunic adorned with silver embroidery. Over than he wore a flowing white toga that came to his knees. He wore black leggings tucked stylishly into white doeskin boots. His cerulean eyes twinkled with mischief every time Remy saw him.   
  
"Mornin'." He shuffled over to the breakfast table and joined the cheerful Child of Oberon. "Wren said that you would be hungry this morning."  
  
"She was right."  
  
"You should have seen her, Mr. LeBeau." Armand spoke in hushed tones. He motioned Remy to come closer. "She was so nervous that the breakfast would not turn out just right. She really went to-"  
  
"ARMAND." Hazel eyes blaze with embarrassment as she glared at the meddlesome demihuman.  
  
Remy knew that the paternal instinct in Armand for Wren ran high. He also knew that Wren did not like being embarrassed. She was the type of woman who sought perfection. Remy chuckled at how many times he had seen her temper flare over the smallest situations. Logan had called her 110% anal-retentive on more than one occasion. How right he was, thought Remy as a wry chuckle escaped him.  
  
The remainder of breakfast went without incident. Armand prattled incessantly about his new experiment with nannotechnology. He wanted it perfected before the end of the week. He wanted to use the advanced process to renovate the old mansion and the rest of the monastery. He wanted to build new defense perimeters with the strange little robots.  
  
"Microscopic Golems are what they are." He poured the last of the juice into his glass. "Just imagine, no one would ever have to worry about food, clothing, or shelter. Just let the nannobots do it."  
  
"Just don't depend upon them too much.' Wren placed the empty juice pitcher in the sink. "There is such a thing as too much of a good thing."  
  
"There are hundreds of uses for the little buggers. I just have to think of them." His agitation was palpable. "Excuse me! I must get to work on it at once." He dashed from the table toward his laboratory in the basement. "Oh the possibilities..." Were the last words the two humans heard as the gnome bolted down the corridor.  
  
"Is he always dat...ancy?" Remy gave a quizzical look in Armand's direction.  
  
"Usually, he's worse.'  
  
"Next, he'll be sayin', 'oh, my stars and garters'."  
  
"You've got that right, Cajun. Never put Hank and Armand in the same room." She said with a mouth full of homemade strawberry pancakes. "The last time that happened, they talked for over twenty hours. It took all the strength I had to pry their brains apart."  
  
"He just takes some gettin' used to."  
  
"Don't worry, Remy. You'll get accustomed to it after awhile."   
  
Remy gladly assisted Wren when she began clearing the breakfast table of dirtied dishes. A stray beam of sunlight caught the highlights in her hair giving it a golden shimmer. She rinsed every dish under a steady stream of water and placed them in the dishwasher. [Simple tasks like 'deese make ol' Remy forget that he almos' freeze to death yesterday.]  
  
He closed his eyes. He focused his attention upon the highlights glimmering in her hair. He immersed himself in the scent of her natural scent of lavender and roses. He imagined the silky texture of her hair between his fingers, so soft to the touch. He heard her quiet laughter as she smiled at him. He wanted to brush his lips against her cheek to savor her.   
  
This Mademoiselle made him laugh. She made him think. She gave him survival. She risked everything to rescue him from the frozen clutches of the Antarctic. He never acknowledged the true chemistry between them until now. He had never thought about the depth of his emotions for her. She was so young and had been through so much but hadn't they all? Recently, he had recognized the magnitude of their link. He only now comprehended how much he had needed her friendship. He only now realized how much she risked by their extrasensory amalgamation.  
  
Tears. An everlasting ocean of tears came from the silent lamentation of her spirit. She longed for love and affection. Her heart lay about her feet because of her father's betrayal. Her mind barely clung to sanity because of the horrors experienced in the camps. She realized it was better to remain alone.   
  
[I should be accustomed to loneliness by now.] He thought as she loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. [I know what that is all to well.]  
  
[I have an accessory to murder helping me clear dirty dishes. He was a henchman for Sinister. Yet, how can I turn my back on him? I have felt his passion, shared his convictions, and have touched his basic nature. He doesn't have the heart of a selfish ...damn, he taught me that phrase the other day! Nouveau riche, an opportunist. His heart was with the X-Men until yesterday. Where is it today? Will he return to Sinister's fold? Will he betray us the way he betrayed the Morlocks? Maybe then, he would have committed such an act. Now, I know he would find such duplicity amoral. I hope that my teammate's mindless prejudice will not make him turn on us.]  
  
  
The Cajun heard every frightened thought as though they were broadcasted on a loudspeaker. He cast a glance in her direction as he handed her the empty juice glasses. Their eyes met briefly and then Wren decided to study the intricacies of the dishtowel in her hand. Remy experienced Wren's fear as if it were his very own. Her inner battle of logic versus compassion was ripping her apart. She still doubted him. It was a psionic slap in the face.  
  
He felt a nudge at the brink of his consciousness. [It's so good to have him here. He always listened to my problems without complaint. Rogue found a little happiness with him. Why did she have to throw it away? She could have had a good life with him. It would have taken ingenuity and effort, but they would have made it. Why did she have to do something so asinine? I know he's hooked on her. I just hope someday I'll get over this foolish hope...]  
  
Wren let her mind wander as she rinsed each glass and carefully placed them in the dishwasher. More than once throughout the year she had found herself in Remy's room talking with him about life and love. On the brighter days, they played Poker or Blackjack. His expertise with cards came as naturally as his kinetic charges or his newly discovered empathy. How often Remy's room was devoid of light and laden with the stench or cigarettes. More than once she'd chirped at him. "Ever hear of air-freshener?"  
  
Now, she stood beside him and inhaled deeply. The blended scents of cigarettes, cologne, and sweat met her nostrils. She stood quietly beside Remy and stole a quick look. Even now, she noticed he was still working on recovery from his trip to the Arctic. The chestnut-tresses were slicked back to his head. Beads of perspiration collected on his brow. His breathing was harsh and labored. She felt his anxiety and smelled his fear. His agitated state pricked like a thousand needles into her skin. He shuttered violently and called out her name. Spasms racked his lithe, sculptured physique. Wren watched with primal fascination. She realized that she had never noticed the luxuriant thickness of his hair. She liked how the warm brown mane fell to his shoulders. He was like a cougar in the bayou; dangerously gorgeous!  
  
He staggered backwards toward the kitchen island. Remy covered his mouth as a wave of nausea washed over him. He stumbled over to the counter and leaned against it. A sharp bolt of pain pulsed in her temples. It happened more than once during their sessions. Her mind had innate defenses resulting from the mental agonies of the camps. What affected her affected Remy through their link. A confused look crossed her features. She turned to look at Remy. He saw her bewilderment change to shock and then, at last, understanding.   
  
"So you finally figured how to tap our psionic link?" A grave voice brought him back from his retrospection. "I hoped that you would never do that."  
  
"Why, Wren?"  
  
"Remy, I don't like it when someone can creep around inside my mind without my permission." She returned his crimson gaze. "When a friend also has the gift of empathy, it can be a volatile combination."  
  
"Jean explained it to me. With this new power of yours, you can be quite adept. Not only can you read my thoughts, Remy, you can also use them as a tracking device. My memories and defenses can trigger specific reactions." She looked out the window to the garden. "You have to be careful, Remy, Jean says the link we've formed is permanent. You can read my mind as easily as an open book and you don't want to do that."  
  
Realization hit him. She felt his shame and his vulnerability. Perhaps, they were her feelings.  
  
"Exactly, Remy, I never know where the other person's thoughts end and where mine begin." He gave her a look and then glanced toward the kitchen door. "Fresh air?"  
  
"Oui, Belle. My stomach's churnin'."  
  
"Not a problem." She followed him to the patio behind the kitchen.  
  
"Mind if light up, Chere'?" He slowly sat down so not to irritate his queasy stomach.   
  
"Those things will kill you." She drew up a chair as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes.   
  
"99 percent of everyt'ing, Wren, is gonn' kill me." He reached into the pocket of his jeans for matches and found that he had none.  
  
He said nothing as he reached for the ashtray on the patio table. She pulled out silver lighter. He noticed the phrase engraved in ornate script, "Belle."  
  
"I gave you for your birthday." He observed as she lit his cigarette. "I lived to see twenty. That was a minor miracle."  
  
He nodded and inhaled a long drag. He felt the cool sensation of the menthol fill his lungs. He felt the tension hang between them ready to cut them both.   
"So dat is how you knew 'bout my past?"   
  
"Correct."  
  
"If you knew 'bout my dealin' with Sinister, why didn't you say something to Armand?"  
  
"I had my own battles to fight, Remy. Besides, a traitor doesn't help bring a woman back to reality after eighteen months of hell. A person's past is his or her own business." She licked her lips nervously while the Thief inhaled his cigarette and stole a lengthy drag. "I didn't know all of it. I only knew that you had worked for him sometime in your past. It was only recently that I received the visions of your connection with the Marauders."  
  
"Is dat why you don' let Jean inside yo' head? Because you t'ought dat you'd betray me."  
  
"Yes. I won't lie." He saw a lone tear trail down her cheek. Her love for her Remy caressed the edges of his consciousness. "I wasn't going to turn on you. We shared sights, scents, touches, hunches, sounds...all of it through the link."  
  
"Belle, I never knew it was like dat for you."  
  
"Every day for the rest of my life will be that way with you." Wren rose from the chair. "There are several side-effects to the link." She refused to return his gaze as she walked inside. She came back to him with two cups of coffee. "Want some?"  
  
"Please. Any whiskey?"  
  
"Are you kidding?"  
  
She gingerly sipped her java. "It's been bothering me, Remy. I've felt the tension between us since last night when I picked you up from the Arctic. I'm not comfortable with those feelings."  
  
"Wren, I never knew." He ran his fingers through his chestnut mane. "I always thought dat it was just natural. I t'ought dat it was just all in good fun."  
  
"Not for me." She set down her cup and took his hand. "It's very real for me, Remy. I love you. It's fun on the surface, but underneath, it's very tangible." She added two packets of sweetener to her coffee. She seemed to try to front her next question. "Is it just a pastime for you to flirt with me or is the interest genuine?"  
  
"Oh, Chere', it be genuine." He felt himself shutter at the intensity of the link. "It not all fun and games for Gambit. You're like da itch dat I just can't scratch."  
  
"Sounds like a personal problem." She smirked. "I can recommend an excellent dermatologist."  
  
"I'm serious, Chere. I love my queen of hearts, but, da Queen of Spades keep showin' in my hand." He took her hand in his and the warmth almost scorched her. "Does it bother you so much?"  
  
"I'm not ready for the intensity of such a link. I don't want to be under it's influence. I don't like knowing that you can pick though my thoughts and feelings as easily as browsing magazines at a bookstore."  
  
"Belle, I'm sorry." Shame and guilt coursed through him. "I didn't know da size of da situation. I just felt so. ...alone. I just wanted to know dat you were there." He moved closer to her. Just inches away from her, he smelled lavender. He curbed the impulse to pull her against him and kiss those full sweet lips. "Da t'ief of heart and da Queen of Spades would make quite da pair, non?"  
  
A link like ours can be a great source of comfort. It also leaves both parties very vulnerable." She let go his hand. "Remy, when you explore the sexual aspect of the link I also feel the compulsion of it. I am not strong enough to explore that or deal with it right now. You're not ready for that as well. I don't want to be a surrogate for Rogue."  
  
"You're not a surrogate for Rogue. You be different dan her, Belle." Anger tinged his lilting Cajun accent." Why you keep t'inkin' dat nobody gonna love you? You're somet'in', but you don't know it.' He smashed the last of the cigarette into the ashtray. "You so afraid of rejection dat you keep everybody at arms' length. You not meant to be by yourself. You got too much love to give to shut yourself like dat! You savin' my sorry ass be proof of dat. You got ta heal, Belle, or you ain't never gonna be whole."  
  
"Out of the mouths of Babes..." She looked at Gambit with those hazel eyes. [Gee, Gumbo, maybe you should listen to your words and take them to heart for your own emotional survival. Put that in your deck and shuffle it!]  
  
"You t'ink dat you'll ever love again, Wren?" She felt emotion well within her. What was she feeling? Was it anticipation? Was it Remy trying to soothe his wounds left by Rogue's rejection? " I t'ink that I could love again. I know we'd be so good together."  
  
She said nothing. What could she say? Her father's betrayal left her devastated. He'd sold her down the river in the name of patriotism and genetic purity. Wren found it difficult to trust anyone after that treachery. She covered her mouth to muffle her ragged sob. She closed her eyes tightly, willing the brimming tears not to fall. To hear Remy's words left an ache in her soul that shattered all the walls that she had built around her heart the past few months.  
  
[You think that I'm unique and precious, Remy?]  
  
[You are da sweetness of life dat helps me keep on livin'.]  
  
He knew her pain. The intensity of it made his crimson orbs brim with unshed tears. Her heart felt so hollow and empty. His had been broken, yet hers had been shattered. He knew he was lost when he saw her tears glisten like liquid diamonds and fall into her coffee.  
  
Remy was out of his chair and by her side. She felt strong arms embracing her to his broad chest. He held her as if she were a fragile porcelain doll. Sobs racked her body. He felt his own emotional barriers crash down around him. He let loose the pain of Rogue's rejection in his steady stream of tears.  
  
"It'll be okay, Belle. It'll be okay." He whispered as he lovingly stroked her thick black tresses. "We got each other. Nobody's gonna hurt us anymore."  
  
"It just hurts so much."  
  
"I know, Belle, I know." He used the endearment that he called her since the first day he met her. It was her undoing. She sobbed harder.  
  
It would be so easy to kiss her. Her tears were an elixir that maddened his senses to a fever pitch. He wanted to commune inside her soul and live the bond that was building between them. He didn't understand yet, he knew instinctively what they both needed. He knew that they needed each other.  
  
Over the course of the next several days, Remy's health steadily improved. Wren learned to be strong for him and he became her rock of Gibraltar. Together they forged a unity that gave them what they needed to survive the darkness of their pasts. Over those days, Wren fell deeply for the charming Cajun much to her chagrin.  
  
On the fifth evening, the two sat down to a wonderfully prepared pot of homemade chili ala Remy. While they had not discussed the link for several days, it still bothered him to know it was there. Remy and Wren used the last several days to talk about their hopes and their dreams. He reminisced how he used to tease Rogue about a kiss. Wren told him that she had teased Logan about getting a manicure. They sat in front of the huge stone fireplace in the living room. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a dim light in the room. They sat upon a large braided throw rug in front of the warmth of the blazing flames.   
  
She quietly ate her chili con Remy. The flickering flames gently illuminated her form in soft shades of amber and crimson. He noticed that she kept her eyes fixed upon her chili bowl or the fireplace. Remy noticed that Armand's two feline companions, Grimalkin and Moriarty, kept a rigid, silent vigil. The silvery shorthair, Grimalkin, lay contentedly curled at his mistress's feet. The Black Bombay, Moriarty, stretched leisurely upon the recliner's matching ottoman. He watched her eyes lose their uncanny gleam and take on a very natural appearance.  
  
"Penny fo' your thoughts, mon Belle?"  
  
"I'm not thinking much of anything, Remy. I'm just enjoying my chili."  
  
"You lie like a Persian rug, mon ami. You tell Gambit what is on your mind." He gave her a devilish grin. "Maybe I tell you what be on mine."  
  
"You never give up do you?"  
  
"You are so right." He moved closer to her. He thought he heard the beating of her heart. He saw a pulse point on her neck that he longed to kiss. "No distractions, Wren, what's on your mind?"  
  
"I need to return to the Institute and help my friends get back on their feet."  
  
"Wren, dose people ain't gonna want your help once dey know dat you rescued me from da snow in da Arctic."  
  
"Who says that I'm going to tell them?" She raised a sardonic eyebrow. "What they won't know won't hurt me."  
  
"Belle," Desperation became visible on Remy's face. "Don't play dat game. I did and da stakes were too high. I lost everyt'ing. I don't want you to da same stupid bullshit I did."  
  
"Like they have room to talk, Remy." He felt her anger singeing his psyche. "Storm tore the heart from Chalets. Xavier psionically ripped Magneto's mind apart. Logan has killed more people that I can count on one hand. Bishop hunted and killed mutants. Need I go on?"  
  
Remy remembered each sin committed every day that he spent in Sinister's employ.  
  
"The point is that they will accept you eventually back into the fold. We just have to be patient."  
  
"But, I have lost everyt'ing...my friends, my home, my love. Sometimes you can not go home again, Belle."  
  
"Too true, my friend. Nevertheless, you can choose to go forward and forge a new existence for yourself. The question is," Wren paused to gingerly sip her hot chocolate. "What is your choice going to be?"  
  
He thought about her question. The minx was so good at turning the tables on him without his notice. She had, once again, diverted his questions and placed the focus upon him. [What is my choice going to be? I want to be here with you in Nebraska. I want to hide from the world. I want it to be just you and me. I want the pain to go away. You make it go away so easily, Belle.]   
  
"I don't want to lose you." The Cajun spoke his heart aloud.   
  
"You're not going to lose me, Remy. I'll be gone for a short while."  
  
"How long will you be gone?"  
  
"I may be gone a week, perhaps two." She arose from the brown braided throw rug in the den. "You can stay here as long as you need."  
  
He followed her to the kitchen. "Chere, I hope dat we could do somethin' for da holidays."  
  
She rinsed her empty mug and soup bowl. "Remy, I'll be back before Thanksgiving."   
  
Where was the cocky Cajun that she knew so well? His entire world had been taken away. He had lost his beloved Rogue. He had lost his friends and teammates when his heinous deeds had become known. Wren wondered would she have been so forgiving if his past had been revealed to her in a different manner?   
  
Wren knew that forgiveness was her road to salvation. Yet, she couldn't find the strength she needed to forgive her father. Jean had said that through through forgiveness, she would find freedom from her father's betrayal. Remy had committed many crimes. His conscience was his judge, jury, and executioner. He would forever be incarcerated in his own prison until he learned about forgiveness.  
  
"Remy, I promise to call once a day until I return." She laid a gentle had upon his broad shoulder. "Peace is found in forgiveness and acceptance. That is the one gift you do not have because you can not yet forgive yourself."  
  
"How do I find that?"  
  
"In truth. You must give yourself permission not to torture yourself anymore. Only then will you find acceptance. After acceptance, forgiveness will come to you. Once you have this, then peace will be yours."  
  
  
************  
  
Later that morning...  
  
It was a brisk western breeze that blew that chilly autumn morning. Remy's face was an emotionless mask as he followed Wren to Armand's private jet. The sunrise peaked over the eastern horizon. She said nothing as she boarded the craft and placed her suitcases in the cargo area. He said nothing as he followed her in with her duffel bag.  
  
"Belle, I am gonna be missin' you somethin' fierce." She heard his ragged breath tease her ear. She felt the unnamed emotions growing within him surround her in a penetrating sending of energy.  
  
She felt a leap of anxiety inside her. She did not want to leave this man. She wanted to explore that unnamed emotion. The warmth she felt for him was metamorphosing into a long, slow burn. By the gods, he looked delectable. His stubble contoured the chiseled features of his face. She longed to reach up to him and entwine her fingers in his thick chestnut hair. She wanted to pull his head down to hers....  
  
"I will miss you as well, Remy LeBeau." Their eyes locked onto one another. He felt her well-nigh uncontrollable urge to stay. Gods, he did not want to let this woman walk out of his life, not even for a day.  
  
"Sacre Bleu, Belle!" Desire turned his voice to granite. He could not endure it any longer. She made him ache worse than a virgin with his first woman. His desire for her overrode his good judgment. [T' Hell with good judgment!] An inner voice yelled. He pulled her to him, embracing her in his muscular arms. He fought the temptation to plunder her sweet lips. He used every ounce of knowledge he possessed as a man to incite a woman. He had stolen priceless treasures throughout the years. Now, he wanted to steal this woman' s heart and keep it for his own. He wanted to take her breath away and lose himself in the spell of passion.  
  
Remy tenderly brushed his lips against hers. He heard her sharp little gasp of surprise. He was bewildered by the extrasensory onslaught of her carnality dominating his psyche. Remy never thought that he would virtually taste paradise. Wren's sweet flavor was of honey and cinnamon. It was addictive. Remy wanted more. He wanted to plunder her mouth and taste all of her. He wanted to submit to her captivating charms. He took advantage of her vulnerability and slipped his tongue inside.   
  
She felt his fingers weave themselves through her cascading chestnut tresses. He gently pulled her head back. He teased her by letting his tongue dance against hers. He backed her up against the side of the craft and let his arousal brand her. He felt her knees begin to buckle. He caught her in his arms. His control snapped as she shuddered in anticipation against his broad chest. He pulled her head back to savor the sweet flavor of her mouth. Each plunge of his tongue imitated the sweet intimacy that they both yearned to know with each other.  
  
"Remy, Saints preserve us! We can't be doing this. This isn't right."  
  
"Don't think about what is right, Belle. Think about what we both need!"  
  
Wren's thighs seemed to part of her volition. She wanted to feel Remy's pulsating heat penetrate through her blue jeans into her feminine core. Remy groaned with her ardent response. He cupped her taunt, curvaceous bottom. He effortlessly lifted her until her back was against the craft and his throbbing masculinity branded her with his desire. He gently pressed himself into her as his tongue danced with hers. His pelvis rhythmically imitated his tongue's thrusts. She tore her lips away from his and let loose a string of blue curses.  
  
"Belle, think about this while you're away." He brought his lips down to a dancing pulse point on her throat. He nipped her as he drew into his mouth that throbbing spot at the side of her neck.  
  
"So what about Rogue?" She breathlessly gasped the forbidden question.   
  
[He knows how to set me on fire without even trying.] She felt his heated breath tease her earlobe. She felt the hot droplets singe her skin.  
  
"Rogue don't want me, Wren. You know dat. She don't want tainted goods." He looked at Wren harshly. "This is just a taste of what it will be like between us, Belle."  
  
*********  
October 2005  
The memories of almost a decade ago brought renewed passions to Wren's conscious mind. She found herself breathing rapidly as she remembered that wonderful kiss eight years prior. She was suddenly thrust back into reality as the visions in her mind became black. The scene abruptly was interrupted by a bestial haze prowl at the fringes of her subliminal self. It had sensed the eroticism occurring between the Thief of Hearts and the Queen of Spades. It conveyed dominion and jealousy. Wren abruptly shut down her receptors to the primitive emotions.  
  
"Demetrius, it was a long time ago. You wanted to know what happened. You wanted to see everything. Remy and I aren't a couple anymore." Wren heard the primal roar of male possession thunder in the dining room of their Summerlands estate. The feral raged faded from her mind. Left in its place was a lingering heartache.  
  
"He made you free in ways that you will not be with me." She heard remorse in his voice. "Even in the heights of passion, you withhold your innermost self. In your memories, you offer him your affection and fervor without reservation."  
  
"Demetrius, it was a long time ago. I was a different person." Wren felt frustration blocking her ability to find the right words to explain everything to her Gargoyle mate. "You wanted to share this burden with me. I am doing so...but, if you're going to judge me on things that happened before we met...I'd rather carry this pain alone."  
  
"Nay, Love." His tail slinked about her waist when she turned away from him. "I beg your forgiveness for my rash bout of temper. I wish to know all."  
  
"It's been said that a woman shouldn't share her past with a lover." She whispered.  
  
"I'm not only your lover." He pressed his brow to hers in that wonderful sign of Gargoyle affection. "I am your mate, Wren. I will be your protector and provider all my days. I will gladly lay down my life and bear any burden you carry just so that we are together. Please, don't close yourself off from me."  
  
"No more jealous outburst?"  
  
"None, I promise." His prehensile tail made an "X" over his heart.  
  
"Fine..." She said warily. "I don't know if I can do this."  
  
"I know you can, Love." Demetrius let the last images of the torrid memories flow from his mind. He sensed Wren slowly loosing herself in the visions of another time and place carry her back as if traveling through time. He felt her body slowly relax. He swept her in his arms and sank to the floor. As he rested against the wall, the final reality blended with the memory of yesterday. The dining room faded away and the airfield took it's place...  
  
  
LINOMA BLUFFS  
SUMMERLANDS ESTATE AIRFIELD  
1997  
  
Remy felt the grips of the instinctual need of the link conquer his better judgment. He wanted Wren so much it burned him from the inside. He wanted to lie on his back and submit to the fever that swept over him. He opened that psionic gateway that he had stayed away from for the past several days. He opened his heart and emotion came flooding from his breast. He felt his regard for her turn into cherished tenderness. He sent to her his camaraderie for his Queen of Spades. He sent to her the inexorable yearning to stroke her with his manhood. He sent to her his overwhelming need to feel her envelop him with her taut warm essence.  
  
Remy saw Wren's fantasy engulf his mind. She felt herself surrounding his presence within her. She wanted him to be the one to teach her about love. He looked down at her and saw her eyes meet his with an expression of unrestrained pinnacle. He felt her convulse against for several seconds as he held her to him as she breathlessly cried out his name...  
  
"Oui, Belle." He pressed kisses against her hot, flushed skin.   
  
He heard the sounds of engines break into their passionate reverie. Something cold pressed into his back. Remy had backed into the backside of the aircraft. He saw beads of perspiration on Wren's forehead. She was breathing quietly in his arms ...unconscious. He also saw the smile that graced her delicate face. He felt the immense dampness between her thighs. It had permeated her blue jeans. She had ascended to that stirring zenith in his arms.  
  
"Oh Belle, precious Belle." Remy brought his cool lips gently to her forehead. "Now, I know that you feel somethin' for me. Now, I can wait for you. Wren, when da time be right and you be ready, Remy gonna love you right."  
  
"Mmmm....Remy." She stirred gently in his arms. "I can't wait."  
  
"Wake up, Wren. You need to get goin' if you want to make Xavier's by noon and Armand's waitin' in da plane for you."  
  
"You're right." It slowly came to her that she had felt release in Remy's arms. He saw her cheeks stain with a severe blush. He knew her embarrassment from her psychic emanations.  
  
"Belle, don't be ashamed of your response. Please..." she heard quiet urgency in his voice.  
  
"I'm not ashamed of what just happened, Remy." She tenderly cupped his face in her hands. "I'm just surprised by the intensity of our chemistry."  
  
"I'm not afraid, Belle. I just don't want anyone to get hurt."  
  
"Remy, our lives our too complicated to deal with this episode right now. With your feelings for Rogue and my current mental state, I don't the exploration of the link would be good for either of us."  
  
His hands came to capture her face. Sanguine scrutiny locked with hazel eyes. "Don't deny this bond dat we have between us, Wren. It is so strong dat neither of us can ignore it."  
  
"You're still recovering from Rogue's rejection. Slow down and step back from it all. Don't try to loose yourself in a poor substitute for your former sweetheart."  
  
"You don't know that."  
  
"Perhaps, it would be better if we discussed it upon my return." She stood upon her feet. "I have to go, Remy."  
  
"What am I gonna do while you're gone?"  
  
"Get a job, Remy." She laughed as the hatch of the craft closed.   
  
He watched as the private jet lifted for take off. Things had accelerated between him and Wren in the past few days. As the plane flew off into the East, he thought about his Beloved Rogue. He recounted the one night of passion they shared in Magneto's old lair. It was the only night of love he would ever share with Rogue. It still was not enough for her to have faith in him. That cut him deeper than any banishment from the person.  
  
Now, he was exploring the potential of a link with Wren. It felt so good and so familiar to him. It was addictive to his body and his mind. He could lose his mind inside her and it would be worth it to know that kind of love. It was so soon, but Remy wanted to know if they could have a future together. He was willing to take the chance...the question remained. Was Remy willing to take that step and love again? [Love? Yeah, given enough time, I feel more than just friendship for Belle. It would consume my soul.   



End file.
